


Remembering Through A Piano

by Damnitremy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abuse, Foster Care, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Skye | Daisy Johnson, Music, Piano, Song Lyrics, prosthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:54:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16627127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damnitremy/pseuds/Damnitremy
Summary: A song-fic where Skye is a foster kid with a prosthetic and a wicked good talent for music. She finds herself mixed in with the Coulsons and she really just likes the way the piano keys feel.





	Remembering Through A Piano

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, if you want me to continue this fic, please comment. Kudos and constructive criticism are always welcome. I wrote this in twenty minutes at eleven at night so it's not my best work. Check me out on wattpad at remynola_504

She stays eight days with the Coulsons before she's introduced to Filler High. Skye was apprehensive at best, but school has always been an escape for her. Don't get me wrong, she did not like school but when your home life sucks enough; the bullies seem meaningless compared to the ones sleeping in your own house. Not that that's what Skye has ever called any of them: a house. No, if her foster homes were houses they'd be the ones that swallow people up and spit them out bloodied and ragged. Although, the description does still apply.

But the Coulsons are nice enough, and Skye thinks they might not be too bad. I mean, they didn't mind her leg or lack thereof. And they had other foster kids; two boys. Skye knows their names are Tripp and Leo. She also knows Leo prefers to be called Fitz, he had said so the minute she had walked through the big front doors for the first time, and that he had a best friend called Jemma Simmons who stayed with them a lot. She had also seen pictures of the others on the white walls. A big, black man grinning on a motorcycle. A blonde smiling softly next to a grinning man next to her, Skye guessed they were in London based off of the background. And a lot more, but those people appeared more often than the others.

Skye liked to observe. She saw how happy everyone seemed first, and she thought that maybe, just maybe she could be like them: happy. But she eliminated that thought as quick as it came. She'd only been happy once, and that ended badly. She had shivered and reached to her knee, and she thought of what was under it. A prosthetic. Skye had lost her calf and foot.

She was at school a total of three days when she found the music room. And the piano. She had stared at it for a while, maybe 15 minutes, before she sat on the black, leather seat. She was missing her math class, she couldn't bring herself to care, because it was right there: a piano. She remembered when Wanda, her foster sister, one that she had truly loved, taught her to play. And Skye took to it like a fish to water. She only knew a couple of songs without the music sheets, though, so she played one of her favorites, Titanium by David Guetta.

She played a little melody first, her fingers flitting across the keys, dancing. Then she started playing and singing. 

You shout it out  
But I can't hear a word you say  
I'm talking loud not saying much  
I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet  
You shoot me down, but I get up

I'm bulletproof nothing to lose  
Fire away, fire away  
Ricochet, you take your aim  
Fire away, fire away  
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium  
You shoot me down but I won't fall  
I am titanium, I am titanium, I am titanium, I am titanium 

 

She leaned into the music, and she could remember was that house. Where she felt so loved for the first time. By Natasha, and Wanda and Pietro. Her family, her siblings.

 

Cut me down  
But it's you who has further to fall  
Ghost town, haunted love  
Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones  
I'm talking loud not saying much

I'm bulletproof nothing to lose  
Fire away, fire away  
Ricochet, you take your aim  
Fire away, fire away  
You shoot me down but I won't fall  
I am titanium  
You shoot me down but I won't fall  
I am titanium, I am titanium

 

She thought of her foster parents in that house. That monster that sucked her up. The foster mother was a drunk and quick to anger, but she was nothing compared to her foster fother. Pietro would say that he might have thought the man was the devil if he wasn't Jewish and didn't believe in Lucifer. Skye had to agree. 

 

Stone-hard, machine gun  
Firing at the ones who run  
Stone-hard, thus bulletproof glass

 

She thought of the bullets that man put in Pietro and a single tear slipped down her cheek. Her voice cracked slightly, but her hands didn't falter. They were running across the keys, racing like they wanted to finish the marathon first. 

 

You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium  
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium  
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium  
You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium  
I am titanium

She sang the last verse softly. And she remembered the way the knife felt in her leg. And the pain of leaving her two sisters. And her fingers stopped playing. And her sleeve wiped the tears off her face. And her heart danced in the memories.

And behind her someone clapped. And Skye jumped and spun towards the door. It wasn't open, but several people were now standing in the empty space Skye had once adorned when she lost her little staring contest with the instrument. 

She knew three out of four of the students looking at her with awe. Fitz, Jemma Simmons, and Tripp. the other boy stood behind them obviously shy.

"What are you doing!?" Skye asked, shocked and embarrassed.

Jemma had been the one clapping, but she just stood now. 

"We, uhm, just..." Fitz tried to start.

"We heard music, really pretty music, and we were just curious. I'm sorry we interrupted you. You're Skye, right. We've met," Simmons filled in.

**If anyone wants me to continue this, just comment and I'll try my best. Kudos and constructive criticism are always encouraged.**

 


End file.
